Corvina observed him in his dark black jeans and a shade lighter black sweater, the V-neck exposing the thick yet somehow graceful flesh of his neck, the fabric hugging the broad expanse of his chest, defining his pectoral muscles. She quietly watched as he read, tapping the pen on the side, a pen that looking tiny in his large hands with the long, skilled fingers. She wondered how those fingers would feel sifting through her hair, stroking the side of her face, sliding over the skin of her neck down to her breasts, playing her like the piano she’d seen him on that first night. Her nipples pebbled. “That’s not a look you give your teacher, little crow.”
Bu yaz yanınızdan ayırmak istemeyeceğiniz kitapları sizin için bir araya getirdik.
💬 Siz olsanız bu listeden hangisiyle başlardınız?
“Steer clear of me, little crow,” he muttered, his eyes piercing, flaying her open. “You might be a luring siren but I’m no ordinary sailor. I’m a mad pirate and I’m trying to resist your call. If I land on your shores, I will plunder and take away everything worth having. Be very careful giving me those eyes.”
